Northampton. Saturday night- 11o'clock. Jan. 16th -

My dear friend, The spirit says: Write to Mrs. R.-

write the history of the day to somebody that you would like to run in [and] tell it to, somebody who can enjoy it with you! But is it not odd that your clerical friend, your bounden drudge to the never ceasing craft of sermon = writing, should have time to indite [sic] a letter Saturday night, as if there were no Christian nights in the week for that purpose?- + he too, that luckless J.S.D, who from time immemorial has performed mysterious solitary expiation all that (Saturday) night for a week's truant freedom? [strikethrough] with [—-] [/strikethrough] [strikethrough] from man's [————] + [/strikethrough] snatched away, for'that vast of timeâ, from mortal sight, like Faust. when Mephistopheles claimed him after having let him run full long. But this night I am free; the wherefore will appear duly in the course of this most quaint + pleasant history. I have had a strange day to break the mount- ony of life - one with little event - one of which the story will sound small + not worth the telling, - but more reasonable than an eclipse in the inward calendar - Last night was lengthened out with dreams; among which two long + connected ones remain with some distinctness in my mind (strange, for I never dream anything connected - stranger yet that my head should contain room for such absurdities) - One was a long confab with Lowell Mason, to whom I worked my way through a great crowd in a church at some literary per -

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formance, as he sat in a sort of professional chair behind the stage - why I saw only [underline]him [/underline] in that crowd God knows - We discussed the musical wants of the community at great length - The other was of meeting Queen Victoria + her prince as common visitors in a boarding house in Boston, where I found myself living, just as I was stepping aboard a steam boat to Port- land. They persuaded me to postpone my journey + pass a sociable evening with them, bringing in some of my friends. It was by [—] + very nonsensi- cal. I woke exhausted [and] heavy - after a sullen silent breakfast prepared to begin upon the sermon - but not till I had read some from Ben Johnson, for I always hang [sic] off from these tasks while my mind seizes any book for an excuse. But finally I did begin - Cheerfully the sunlight fell around my paper - The mountains [and] the valley were robed in purest snow - all the trees with [strikethrough] their [/strikethrough] all their twigs + branches clad with ice glittered gloriously + the beauty of winter met me whenever my eye looked off from the task. The thoughts began to flow, the subject to open before me, stately vista beyond vista, like a boundless magnificent interior of a temple, [and] I, as happy as an artist in full tide of creation, thinking that not twenty = four hours remained till Sunday - when in came the little West Indian

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girl from the Clarkes'on the hill, bringing me the most beautiful bouquet of green = house flowers I ever saw, together with a pot of English violets of most delicate fragrance - they filled my room with perfume. I sat them in the middle of my table in the golden sunlight, amid a litter of books, authors whom I could not think of reading, to whom fresh flowers should offer incense forever, Shakespeare, Coleridge, Goethe [–] - And now had I most grateful accom - paniments around me in my work - All day I wrote, but in alarm I looked + saw the vast temple nowheres near completed, no, not more than just begun. Sunday meanwhile coming on apace- It was not that my sermon did not grow; but my subject grew so much faster - I had fished up a handy little thought - but [strikethrough] little [/strikethrough] like the casket fished up by the old man in the Ara- bian tale, when I opened it, forth rolled up + up a cloud of smoke, which became a giant of most appalling stature, + made me wish my casket in the sea again - So was I tormented. But faith came to my aid;' The night is indef- initely long - thou canst do impossible things - or at least try - think of Abraham willing to sacrifice his son - did not God send him a ram in- stead? So I worked on - my horizon still flee- ing before me - till I was weary + dizzy - I resolved to run out, just after dark, + breathe

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awhile - I run in to chat with some lady friends, seek- ing relief in something the most opposite to my work; they gave it me, in (will you believe it?) a game of whist, which I enjoyed most rarely, feeling as if.. [sic] had got a thousand miles away from the region I had all day occupied - After a brief replenishment in this odd way I hastened home, in faith + yet in terror, to my formidable task. Then was handed me a note, com- mencing with the motto:'Haud ignarus mali miseris succur-

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rere discoâ, telling me how glad I ought to be if a stray brother should offer to preach for me + actually making me that offer, + signed J.F. Clarke, Mansion House - So was my diligence rewarded, my [strikethrough] distress [/strikethrough] despair seen of heaven [and] relieved - + now good night! Yours J.S.D. Will you not write me by Mr Huntington?

[translation of Latin motto: by no means unfamiliar with trouble, I have learned to help the miserable]